


Pout

by jadorelouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bye now, Fluff, M/M, but this is shitty 2012 work that was posted probably a year late omg, hi this is feb 2014 me saying dont read this, i dont wanna take it down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadorelouis/pseuds/jadorelouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry likes to pout; Louis is definitely okay with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pout

The first time it happens, Louis considers it completely and utterly normal. It’s just like kissing, right?

‘Its just natural instinct.’ He repeats to himself. Because lets face it. When Harry Styles is placed right in front of you with the most _adorable_ (Louis can not stress that enough) pout that was possibly ever seen, you don’t let that opportunity go amiss. You catch that lower lip between yours as if your own life depends on it.

 

***

 

The ninth time it happens, Louis starts to get a little apprehensive.

Harry and himself had just departed the fair and much to Harry’s dismay, without any candy floss.

“Oh come on, Hazza. We can get some candy floss another time. It’s not the end of the world.” Louis tells Harry as the younger lad slumps stubbornly into their car, himself also slipping into the driver’s seat.

“But Lou, I want candy floss now! Not tomorrow, not in four weeks, now!” Harry whines in pure frustration with wide, innocent eyes. Louis catches himself thinking that _Harry looks so adorable right now_ and _maybe I_ could _just take him to get some cotton candy quickly_ , but shakes it off. It’s six o’clock, swiftly dawning on seven and the couple had organized a dinner date at some fancy restaurant with the rest of the lads.

“But Louuu” Harry groans once again, and Louis finds that his eyes zero in on the plump, pleading bottom lip that the boy has stuck out. It’s like it has some sort of power over him, drawing Louis in with the plump feeling that he (from obvious previous experiences) knows is waiting for him. As he presses his lips to Harry’s lower, through the tingling and the sparks he undergoes, Louis manages to think to himself ‘God dam'it, Styles. What are you doing to me?’

 

***

 

The twentieth time it happens, Louis considers himself to have a minuscule obsession with Harry’s bottomost lip.

The pair are at the local London Pacific Fair, as it were proclaimed, shopping at the stalls for a certain Liam Payne’s birthday present.

“But, Louis, getting Liam a Toy Story spoon set for his birthday will be hilarious! Can’t you just imagine his reaction?” Harry says with as much persuasion as he can manage, waving the metal objects around in Louis’ face. “Just look at them!”

Louis cracks a tiny smile at his boyfriend’s childish ways, his heart warming at the sight.  
“Harry, he’ll hate us forever! You know how conflicted he’s going to be?” The Doncaster lad retorts with a small chuckle, being able to imagine it like Harry had earlier said. “He’d probably rather jump off of a cliff!”

Harry finds himself unconsciously pouting, and _Louis_ finds himself unconsciously leaning forward to press a kiss to the plump, lower lip.

“Fine, fine, we'll get the spoons. Only because I love you.” Louis sighs and hands a few notes to a counter worker, before taking the small gift bag and trailing down the rest of the markets.

 

***

 

The thirty second time it happens, Louis knows there is something seriously wrong with him.

It’s storming tonight, and himself and Harry are laid in front of their small fireplace, the crackling of the heated flames being the only silence-breaker. Bar the thunder, of course, that is. Until Harry lets out a small whimper and is snuggling closer into Louis’ side. The older boy tugs the thick duvet tightly around their two figures, one arm hung lazily over Harry’s shoulder. “You alrigh’, darling?” Harry goes to nod, but is cut off by a loud rumble and flash of light from outside of their window, causing him to wince instead.

“So s-scared of the storm,” The curly-haired lad mumbles into Louis’ neck, feeling the rim of his eyelids burning with hot liquid. Louis can feel the first tear dribble down his skin, and that causes him to worry immensely. He pulls ‘his Hazza’ closer, whispering sweet nothings into his curls. He knows how bad Harry is with storms, and that only catches Louis’ attention more.

When it’s storming, Louis often (much to both of their pleasure) curls up with Harry on the couch, and they’ll watch a movie until they’re both passed out in a tangle of limbs. _A ha!_ , Louis thinks, _that’s_ the problem.

“I’ll put a movie on, yeah?” The Doncaster sweetheart questions as he stands up from under the soft quilt, but only to be pulled back a few seconds later.

“Just stay with me.” Harry looks up at Louis with such innocence and worry in his eyes that the older boy can’t refuse, even if he wants to. Louis tucks his boyfriend back under his arm, wrapping the duvets back around the both of them.

“M’sorry.”

“Sorry for what, babe?” Louis questions in clear confusion as he gazes down into Harry’s eyes, the green specks still viewable through the tears.

“Sorry for being afraid of storms.”

Louis shakes his head, almost shocked. Harry has never seemed so sincere. “Don’t be sorry, you know you can’t help it. Plus, it gives me an excuse to cuddle up to you!” He grins wide down at his lover, the young boy returning the expression. Not before he pouts, though. And I think you and me both know what Louis did about that.

 

***

 

The forty sixth time it happens, Louis considers confining in actual help because, lets be honest here. In the past week, Harry has pouted at least forty times. Also in the past week, Louis has kissed that pout away at least forty times. There has got to be something strange about that.

‘What kind of a person has an obsession with a pout?’ He thinks to himself, having pondered on this thought all day.

Just a few hours prior, Harry and himself had been out in the city to an Italian restaurant; La Trattoria, for a lunch date.

Louis scooped up some spaghetti on his fork, twisting the cutlery around between his fingers until the string-like food was wrapped around it. “Open up.” He cooed, poking the fork at Harry’s lips until the younger boy split them apart, engulfing the spaghetti.

“Mm, very nice.” The Cheshire boy mumbled as he chewed on the string of spaghetti, finally swallowing it and looking up into Louis’ eyes. “Your turn!”

Louis couldn’t help but giggle, his eyes rolling subconsciously as he swallowed whatever sort of pasta it was that was in Harry’s meal. “Delicious.” He smiled, and Harry’s eyes lit up, the green slightly startling Louis. It was almost impossible for him not to find himself lost in them.

“Hazza, you’ve got spaghetti…” Louis’ voice trailed off as Harry poked out his lower lip, his stomach erupting with butterflies once again, as if on cue. ‘This is getting way out of hand’, he thought.

“Where?” Harry asked simply, but was cut off with an ‘mph’ as Louis’ lips suckled the younger lad’s into his mouth. “Right there.” Louis smiled sweetly at his boyfriend, before sitting back and finishing off his own meal.

 

***

 

The sixty ninth time it happens is kind of ironic, actually.

Louis and Harry had just arrived home from one of their ‘group meetings’ with Simon and the team at Modest!, regarding the two month mark of the couple coming out to the public. It had gone fairly well, and Louis and Harry both knew exactly how they wanted to celebrate.

“Happy two months, baby.” Louis sighs happily against his boyfriend’s lips, a smile spreading across his own. He was so happy; the fans had taken it amazingly, they had proved management wrong and Simon plus the other lads were all so, so proud of them.

“Mmhm.” Harry replies softly, his red jumper shedding itself from his body and to the floor. It wasn’t like they didn’t have sex a lot, because they did, _oh_ they did. This was just something extremely precious to them. In this moment everything felt perfect.

Louis continues to walk Harry up the stairs, refusing to let their lips disconnect. When they finally reach their shared bedroom, they’re both rid of their clothes and left in their boxers. Harry is giggling so loudly that he’s sure even the neighbours can hear him as Louis tosses him onto the bed.

The older lad smiles almost sickeningly sweet at Harry, climbing on top of him with a small chuckle. “I love you.” Louis says as he grins down at the young boy, passion and truth so clear in his voice that Harry feels a little dizzy.

“I love you too.” Louis continues to smile as he’s ducking his head, pressing his lips light against Harry’s milky-pale skin. He looks up at his boyfriend through thick eyelashes, the blues they cover only darkening further with lust as he sees Harry’s lower lip pouted out.

“No kiss first?” Harry asks so innocently and Louis finds himself keen to ravish the boy there and then. But he takes the better option, leaning up with currently-fluttering-closed eyelids and pressing his lips to Harry’s lower.

“Of course.”

 

***

 

When an nintey ninth time happens, Harry actually confronts Louis.

“Louis…” Harry mumbles quietly, his eyes glimmering with happiness; ( _Matching his smile quite nicely,_ if Louis does say so himself)

“Hm?” Louis answers simply, looking at Harry through his Ray Bans. They’re currently laid out on a plaid picnic blanket, feeding each other strawberries and what not; all that cheesy stuff. Louis licks the chocolate off of his fingers, wiping them off on the mat cheekily.

“Why are you obsessed with my lower lip?”

When Louis hears the sentence pronounced by the younger boy, he couldn’t help but to freeze up. Harry’d known all along, then?

“To be honest,” Louis pauses, shrugging a little. “I have no idea.” And he's propping himself up on his elbows, ducking his head into his neck. And if Harry notices his boyfriend's flushing cheeks, he doesn't mention it.

“You don’t know?” Harry questions with an arched eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” Louis nods curtly, smiling as he digs his hand back in the picnic basket; searching for another chocolate coated strawberry. He kind of desperately wants Harry to drop the subject, knowing if the conversation drawls on any further that he’ll end up walking home with bright red cheeks.

Harry erupts with a low chuckle, his eyes rolling subconsciously; causing Louis to look back at his younger boyfriend.

“What’s so funny?” Louis asks with a small frown. “Nothing, nothing at all.”

Louis sighs to himself, popping the strawberry that he’d previously retrieved into his mouth. He was a little embarrassed, he would admit, but Harry doesn’t seem to care about his totally minor attraction to his pout. In fact, Harry seems to be quite enjoying this.

Well; if you’re judging by the lower lip that the heartthrob is pouting out, an obvious smirk lingering behind it, then yeah, he’s enjoying this.

“Oh _now_ you’re just teasing me.” Louis rolls his eyes, which Harry only pokes his bottom lip out more to.

“You know I’d _never_ do such a thing!” Harry coos sarcastically.

Louis sighs and finally gives in, reclining towards Harry and pressing his lips to Harry’s lower. The sparks are shooting through his veins just as wildly as the first time; which causes Louis to notice something.

This is Harry’s one hundredth pout. Which has to mean, this is the one hundredth time that Louis has rid him of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so that was absolute shit I know. But it's really my first one shot, so that has to give me some leeway, yeah? So uh, thankyou for reading I guess! x


End file.
